Demons, generally, could see well in the dark, so there was no point attacking at night. Thus, the fighting force made one last rest stop before the fight.
They were so close to the edge of Glass Fields now that Zemin could see its dimensional disturbances make the stars flicker strangely if he squinted hard enough. More importantly, he could see the faraway lights of other human forces in the distance, but it was impossible to tell if they were fighting anyone right now.
His sleep was fitful and brought barely any rest at all. The morning was much better—the army cooks worked hard before the sunrise to make a hot meat stew for everyone and fill them with energy for the battle.
The sight of it alone cheered everyone, and eating was even better. Zemin wanted to gulf the food down, but instead forced himself to eat slowly and enjoy this small pleasure while he could.
